


No Echo, No Answer

by autumnlxve



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, he’s just really depressed, im sorry renjun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 15:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16307912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnlxve/pseuds/autumnlxve
Summary: It’s hard and Renjun wants it to stop.





	No Echo, No Answer

**Author's Note:**

> renjun is me, im writing about me but it’s renjun. tw: implied self-harm. please read the tags first, if you’re not comfortable don’t read this. seek help if you need it, it’s not a light issue to ignore. i don’t write for people to read, i write for myself so it’s unbetaed

It’s hard and Renjun wants it to stop.

His slipping control over the ability to curb his emotions was one thing, not having anything or anyone to fall back on was another. He couldn’t stop the anger, the sadness and the frustration anymore. He was never going to be good enough, no matter what he did or how much he tried. He wanted to accept that fact and move on but he was indignant. 

Why? After all that he had done? Why couldn’t he just have one thing. Just one. Was it really too much to ask?

He looked at the angry red scratches on his thigh, watched as the tears falling from his eyes embellished them. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. No pain could override what he was feeling. No matter how he tried to alleviate the anger and the frustration, nothing could really make those emotions dissipate. He just wanted it to stop.

He wanted to stop hearing the nagging, he wanted to stop seeing people with their backs turned towards him, he wanted to stop tasting the salty tears on his lips. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, nails retracing the angry scratch marks, feeling the sting. Another sob broke out from him and he slumped down on his bed, turning to bury his face in his pillow. He couldn’t find comfort in anything, not his own bed, his own company, nothing. He was a sealed vessel of negative emotions and he couldn’t do anything to change it.

He wanted so badly to hear a knock at his locked door, to feel even a presence beside him, comforting him. But alas, there was no knock and there was no one. He had no one but himself. 

Perhaps if he buried his face into his pillow and not breathe for long enough he could cease to exist and finally stop the feelings. But it never worked so of course it wouldn’t work this time. Was he put on this Earth to suffer? Why was God unfair? Did God even exist? 

He drew a shaky breath and screamed into his pillow. There was no echo, no answer.


End file.
